Scars
by Madame Meg
Summary: She is all he would ever need.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of the characters in it.**

**(Jasper's POV)**

He gently touched the scars that sat upon his alabaster arms, his index fingers stroking them repeatedly as his thoughts wondered, memories from his past flashing into his mind. How could he forget the kill? How he viciously tore the innocent newborns apart, limb by limb, and for what purpose? To give Maria land to hunt. While he could not have known what he was doing was wrong, having been created by Maria and even having trusted her for some time, it haunted him. He should have realized that killing was wrong to start with, and that he should have just run away to start with. Guilt crept into every crevice of his body, knowing that what he had done was practically the definition of wrong.

Jasper recalled Maria's small face; the expression she wore was always that of infuriation, and rarely was it that of happiness. His diaphragm clenched in response to the overwhelming fear that triumphed over his entity at that moment; he had always been afraid of her getting angry with him, for then she might kill him as she did the other newborns. He shuddered vehemently at the thought, recalling the mixed emotions he always felt when he had been with her.

The sweet composition of Edward's piano played below, the harmonious sound ringing in his ears as he imagined Edward's fingers dancing across the keys. Playing the piano allowed Edward to think without disturbance. Perhaps he should try that.

The door to his bedroom was banged open at that moment, and there stood his personal angel, a shopping bag held in her docile hand. She gestured with her index finger for him to come forward, a beckoning smile on her features as she shut the door behind her, dropping the bag onto the ground. Her petite entity dropped onto the ground as well and she folded her legs, sitting "criss cross apple sauce" as she would call it. She gestured for him to come forward once more and he did, his expression that of confusion. She radiated concern -- for his well being, he presumed. She often worried about him, and that was understandable, for he was her life mate.

"What is it, Alice?" he asked tiredly, a small smile rising onto his features. She patted the space in front of her, her expression completely serious.

"Sit down right here." She patted the space once more.

The male exhaled, but he couldn't deny his wife anything, no matter what she asked for. He sat down in front of her, copying her posture as he crossed his legs as well.

"Today," she drawled out in a bored tone, reaching into the plastic bag to pull out a pair of fake glasses. She placed them upon her nose as she often saw doctors do, and usually it made them appear smarter. (And that was her goal.) The internet had said that when someone pours their heart and soul out to you, they would generally prefer to do it to not only somebody they trusted, but someone who appeared smart and would be able to give them reliable advice. She pulled out a box of tissues and placed it down next to him, gently patting his hand as she did so. The internet also said it was okay if they cried, and to have a box of tissues prepared for them if they did. (Jasper couldn't cry tears, obviously, but it was the thought that counted.)

"Today," she repeated in that flat, monotone voice, folding her hands in her lap. She suppressed the giggle that rose to her mouth, knowing how ridiculous she must look. But, if this is what made Jasper feel better, it was worth it. She just used the flat, monotone voice because that was how the people on TV did it. "We will be discussing the things that are on your mind, and how to fix the problems that may be occurring in your life. To start with, how are you feeling, Mr. Hale?"

He couldn't lie. "... Confused." And yet comprehension was dawning upon him quickly as he adopted her thoughts as his own, abruptly realizing what she had planned. A therapy session. He almost wanted to laugh at her sweet gesture, but that would hurt her feelings, seeing as how she was entirely serious about this.

"And why are you confused, Mr. Hale?" She kept the flat, monotone voice, her expression void of all emotion.

"Because I'm not quite sure why I'm in therapy."

"We are here to discuss how you are feeling and ways to fix the problems that may be occurring in your life," she repeated practically word for word what she had said not a minute earlier, and he realized she must have practiced that one.

"Ah." He nodded his head, folding his hands together as he placed his chin on top of them, his pale knuckles boring into the flesh of underneath his chin.

"So how are you feeling about life, Mr. Hale? What would make you happy? Then again, is something making you... sad?" On the last sentence, her voice broke, the helplessness abruptly showing itself. She seemed so much tinier, and he realized the fact he had been avoiding all communication so he could dwell in his thoughts recently must have worried her. He hadn't informed her of what had been haunting his thoughts in an attempt to protect her; an attempt to make her feel okay, and not in the least bit guilty. If she didn't see something of importance -- such as what was troubling him, she often blamed herself, despite the fact it was never her fault. He had just hoped she wouldn't notice.

"Well," he began slowly. "Lately, my... past has been on my mind. Ever since that fight with the newborns, I remember it all so much more clearly. The guilt has been haunting me, and I'm struggling to push these thoughts to the back of my mind as I usually do. I remember killing them, Alice, and I remember how cruel I was. No, I did not understand my rights from wrong and yes, I was afraid of not doing what Maria said. But I am still held accountable for my actions... but in the end, Alice, I did the right thing, and that's what stops this guilt from overwhelming me." He breathed in deeply before exhaling, standing up slowly. "But with time, Alice, I can move on. I'll never not regret the things I did, Alice, but with time, this won't haunt me anymore. I promise you, so please, don't worry about me. And besides, with a wife like you, how can I let my past hold me back from enjoying our future? You're all I need to be happy, Alice."

And slowly, but surely, she smiled, allowing him to briefly bask in the pleasure of knowing he had made her jubilant. The love and tenderness she felt for him radiated from her small entity, and no words from between the plump flesh of her lips needed to be spoken.

"I love you, Jazzy," she softly informed him regardless, using that nickname that he despised with an intense animosity -- when anyone but Alice called him it, only, however.

He reached down to grab her from the floor by her hands, pulling her into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, placing his face into her pointy hair. He kissed the top of her head gently, allowing her to reach up to wrap her arms around him. "Have I told you just how much I love you too, lately, Alice?"

**Author's Note: I really wanted to write a story about Alice and Jasper, just a cute one-shot, and this is what came to mind. I wanted to do something that involved Alice's adorable personality, but Jasper's troubled past. And... here you go! Hope you enjoyed. Please review!**


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